“CHARGE!” and we sprang, while the far echo rang, And their bullets, like bees, in our ears fiercely sang. Forward we strode to pay what we owed, Right at the head of their column we rode; Together we dashed, and the air reeled and flashed; Stirrups, sabres, and scabbards all shattered and crashed As we cut in and out, right and left, all about, Hand to hand, blow for blow, shot for shot, shout for shout, Till the earth seemed to boil with the heat of our toil. But in less than five minutes we felt them recoil, Heard their shrill rally sound, and, like hares from the hound, Each ran for himself: one and all fled the ground! Then we goaded them up to their guns, where they cowered, And the breeze cleared the field where the battle-cloud lowered. Threescore of them lay, to teach them the way Van Ghelt and his rangers their compliments pay. But a plenty, I swear, of our saddles were bare; Friend and foe, horse and rider, lay sprawled everywhere: ’Twas hard hitting, you see, Sir, that gained us the day! 8. “Yes, they too had their say before they fled, And the loss of our Colonel is worse than all the rest. One of their captains aimed at him, as he led The foremost charge—I shot the rascal dead, But the Colonel fell, with a bullet through his breast. We lifted him from the mire, when the field was won, And their captured colors shaded him from the sun In the farmer’s wagon we took for his homeward ride; But he never said a word, nor opened his eyes, Till we reached the camp. In yon hospital tent he lies, And his poor young wife will come to watch by his side. The surgeon hasn’t found the bullet, as yet, But he says it’s a mortal wound. Where will you get Another such man to lead us, if he dies?” XIV. 1. Sprung was the bow at last; And the barbed and pointed dart, Keen with stings of the past, Barbed with a vain remorse, Clove for itself a course Straight to the father’s heart; And a lonely wanderer stood, Mazed in a mist of thought, On the edge of a field of blood. —For a battle had been fought, And the cavalry skirmish was but a wild prelude To the broader carnage that heaped a field in vain: A terrible battle had been fought, Till its changeful current brought Tumultuous, angry surges roaring back To the lines where our army had lain. The lawyer, driven hard by an inward pain, Was crossing, in search of a dying son, the track Where the deluge rose and fell, and its stranded wrack Had sown the loathing earth with human slain.